Consequences
by poxelda
Summary: Bozer learns exactly how awful it is to watch as Mac is tortured during an op. Warning for language and feels. Talk of torture.


Another hospital. Another damned hospital. Jack's boots pounded down the corridor as he sprinted into the elevator. It was late, so there wasn't much foot traffic. A small thing, but something he was grateful for. Another barrier removed. He jabbed the button another ten times. Jack knew it did no good, at least Mac explained it using a lot of big words and math formula, that it didn't, but Jack had to do something.

He'd been on the plane when Riley called him in tears. Jack closed his eyes and fought the urge to smash a fist through the control panel. Come on, come on. Jack kicked the wall then marched in a tight circle trying to calm the terror that had gnawed on him since he hung up. He'd been strong and calm for Riley. Comforted her, told her everything was going to be alright. Everything was fine with him. Until he hung up. Then the images played. Tortured, for hours. Russian mob. Jack's jaw clenched until he could almost feel it cracking. Why the fuck was he on an easy data drop when Mac and Bozer faced the fucking RUSSIAN MOB alone?

He didn't waste time listening to Matty's stammered excuses. He knew exactly where the problem was. On its way to Germany for a "conference." Hiding. That's what James was doing. It was probably for the best. Jack was pretty sure he'd be practicing his sniper skills on his boss or beating him to death or cutting his fucking head off or-the elevator doors opened with a slow casualness that grated. Jack pushed in and stabbed the button for Mac's floor. ICU, of course. Jack stabbed the button. He paced the elevator as it rose. The soft muzak version of Barry Manilow tested his nerves. He wasn't convinced this was his own personal form of hell. Jack swore and pounded on the wall. The elevator shook once but continued at its own miserable pace unfazed.

The elevator lurched to a stop and Jack growled. The door took forever to open. As soon as he had enough room, he slid through and raced down the hall. He knew the way, of course. He knew the way to ICU in almost every hospital overseas and in the states. Mostly because of things just like this. Mostly because he didn't do his job. Because they wouldn't let him do his damn job. Because HE wouldn't let him share Mac. Jack swallowed back the harsh words he had for Oversight and promised himself the next time he saw the man he was going to let them out and consequences be damned. He'd gone too far this time. He'd-

Jack's brain skidded to a stop as he stood in the doorway. He took in a shaky breath. Mac-objectively it wasn't as bad as Jack had seen the kid before, but god damn those motherfuckers to hell. Jack rubbed his eyes, surprised to find no tears stained his cheeks. He took a shuddering breath and silently slid into the room. He frowned. No one was with Mac? Not that the kid would notice. He was out.

"Hey, brother...oh Mac, what did they do to you." His voice evaporated to a soft whisper. He sank into the chair beside the table and took inventory. Mac's face was a mangled mess of bruises and blood. His eyes were swollen shut. Tape held bandages over his cheeks and jaw. Poking out of the bandages, Jack could see a glint of wire. He bent and rubbed his forehead. He sniffed unable to hold back the tears. Broken jaw wired shut. His left shoulder, arm, and chest was wrapped in plaster. His entire hand also enclosed in thick white gloves leaving only the tips of his fingers sticking out. Broken side and fingers. Who knows what was done to his shoulder. Mac's legs were in traction and both legs in traction. Broken hip or pelvis. His right arm was bandaged. Over his wrist and hand dark patches of blood showed through.

The monitors were surprisingly normal. Jack glanced up at the emptying bag hanging over Mac's head. Morphine drip. Jack breathed out. He couldn't imagine the agony that Mac had- Jack straightened. What the hell? It was a soft sound. A muffled animal sound of anguish and pain. Jack stood and leaned over the bed. In the corner, tucked into a ball hiding behind the bedside table Bozer sat his fist in his mouth. The younger man shook and his face was flooded with tears. Jack felt his heart break. He didn't know the specifics, but he could guess. Jack knew how it felt to watch Mac scream in agony until he couldn't make a sound. He knew what it felt like to be helpless as the most important person in his life writhed in torment. Jack took a deep breath and slowly walked around the bed. He didn't feel as close to Bozer as he did to Mac or Riley, but Bozer was still one of his kids.

He knelt slowly. Jack couldn't help but think of Boze as anything but a scared little boy crying his heart out. Jack had heard the story about Boze being with his brother when he died in a shooting accident. Jack could see that kid in front of him going through the same pain, but infinitely worse because they weren't kids and this wasn't as simple as an accident. Jack settled into a sitting position in front of Bozer and studied him, taking inventory. Boze's eyes were squinted shut as if he was trying to hurt himself by squeezing them together so hard. He hadn't reacted to Jack's presence. His whole body shuddered with the force of his silent sobs and Jack could see blood dripping from his hand.

"Aw, Boze." Jack whispered. He inched closer, "Bozer? Hey, Boze." Bozer froze. His eyes slowly opened. Red and raw, sunken. Jack offered a soft smile, "Hey, buddy." Bozer tilted his head and shook his head back and forth. He tried to push away from Jack, but he was already against the wall.

"J-J-I-So-"

"Hey, Boze, it's ok. Take a second. Breathe for me, ok? C'mon, big breath in…" It took a few minutes of coaching before Boze was calm enough to speak.

"Jack, it's all my fault. I am so sorry-"

"Boze...Boze...Stop!" Boze paled and looked down at Jack's slightly raised voice. Jack reached up and grabbed a wipe from a pack on the table beside him. He handed it to Boze.

"It's ok, Boze. This is not your fault." Boze took the wipe and cleaned up his face. He looked down at his hand and gave them a disdainful swipe. Jack knew that feeling too. Why don't I have a scratch when Mac is broken? Jack sighed gathering his thoughts. How could he help Bozer go through what tore Jack apart the most every time it happens? Jack honestly couldn't remember the first time. He remembered the terror, the blood, the need to get help, Mac's frightened eyes begging him to make it better- Jack shook away the memories and shoved them back into their cage. He had to focus on the hurting kid in front of him.

"J-Jack...They caught us…" Jack nodded and let Boze talk.

The clang of the dungeon door was one of the most chilling and evil sounds Wilt had ever heard. His gut churned. He shot Mac a frightened glance. Mac offered him a sideways grin. The head honcho came over and studied them. Bozer tried not to shy away, but the guy had eyes that would have frightened a shark. Bozer had known his name, but it was gone in the tornado of panic he spun in. Bozer decided to call him Boris.

"Spies, eh? Let me try this as friends. Who do you work for?" Bozer stepped closer to Mac. He tried to think of something sarcastic to say. Normally he'd muster up something to show the bullies he wasn't scared of them, but he was scared. Wilt didn't think he'd ever been more frightened in his life. Like the shark he resembled, Boris focused on Bozer. Bozer took a step closer to Mac. He knew he'd just broken one of the cardinal rules of Spy 101. Never show them what's valuable to you; it gives them leverage, but he couldn't help it. Mac stood at ease staring at Boris as if he were something stuck on the bottom of his shoe.

"Who do you work for?" Maybe it was too much Hollywood, but Boze thought there wasn't anything in the world more menacing than a threat in a Russian accent. Boze puffed up his chest and went to move forward. Mac stopped him by grabbing his forearm. Wilt glanced over at him, but Mac gave no sign Bozer was even there. Boris smiled as if he'd just seen a cool neon light flicker in a black night. Bozer fought to not cower and slink back to the back of their cage.

"When are you going to attack?" Mac countered his face emotionless, his voice bored as if he was asking a waiter about the menu. Boris studied Mac, but his eyes kept sliding back to Bozer. He smiled.

"You," He pointed to Mac, "have been through this before. You hide your fear, you won't scream, da?" Mac shrugged. Boze worked his throat to swallow down a brick of sand that he swore sat at the back of his tongue. Boris focused entirely on Bozer. Bozer let loose with the faintest of squeaks. Boris grinned, a shark circling a bleeding swimmer readying for the final attack.

"But you…" He jumped forward and banged the bars of the cage. Boze yelped and jumped back his heard pounding, his breathing turning to gasps. The group of Russians laughed. Mac glanced at Wilt, only his eyes conveyed his worry for his friend. Bozer leaned against the stone at the back of the cage. He was sure he was going to puke, faint, piss or shit his pants, or curl up and scream or some combination of all of the above.

"You won't get anything from us." Mac growled. Boze looked up. He'd never heard the edge of menace in his friend's voice before. Mac's body never lost it's easy position, but his hands were curled into fists. A raw fury rolled off the blonde. Boze's eyebrows rose. Even the Russians stopped laughing and studied this skinny blonde kid. None of them expected Mac to suddenly look dangerous, like a grenade with the pin pulled. Bozer knew that Mac didn't explode like Jack. Most people who met Mac would think he never gets mad and if he did he'd handle it with the equanimity of the Dali Lama. He did that more than Bozer would have liked, but Bozer knew that Mac's mind could be truly terrifying. He is a hundred steps ahead of anyone around him. If he planned revenge or an attack of some sort-well, you were fucked. Boris nodded impressed.

"Very well, I give you one hour. Then we will come and...discuss our mutual concerns at length. One of you." Boris pointed at Bozer when he said that. Bozer's knees shook and he slid to the cement floor. Boris laughed as he turned away speaking in rapidfire Russian with his minions. Mac stared after them a long minute his eyes narrowed. He turned and in one step was Wilt's best friend again.

"Are you ok, Boze?" Boze stared at him wide eyes.

"Is that a joke?" Mac's mouth quirked up at the ends.

"Maybe?" Bozer wanted to slap the snot out of his head-He stopped and relaxed letting out a long breath. He shook his head and aimed an angry finger at Mac's nose.

"You-You are such a-" Mac chuckled and squeezed Wilt's shoulder. He stood up and studied the cage around them. Boze sat back and watched him. He could almost see forms and figures fly around Mac's head as his brain thumbed through an infinite file of information trying to find something that fit into what Mac had at hand. Boze licked his dry lips. He couldn't see anything. That wasn't unusual. Mac studied the lock and the hinges and the bars and the wall and the floor and Bozer. Mac's shoulders slumped telling his best friend all he needed to know.

Mac sat beside Boze with a long breath of defeat. His hands draped on his knees.

"I guess we're waiting on Jack." He said. Wilt would have believed the confidence, if he didn't know Mac so well. He could see the tightening of the blonde's muscles. He was putting his mind in order, preparing. Boze sat up straighter.

"Mac-"

"Again." Mac said with an exaggerated eye roll. Boze knew Mac knew Jack was out of the country. Riley would be coming, hopefully with an army of TAC soldiers, but Jack was gone for now. He knew Mac was hoping he would correct him, or joke about their codependency. Boze didn't give into the joke.

"Mac, I'm scared." Familiar blue eyes met his. Mac nodded and leaned back.

"Yeah, me too."

"No, I mean it. I've never been so scared. I-I-I'm not sure I can-" Bozer's voice dried up. Mac nodded.

"I know, Boze. I get it." Bozer flinched. He remembered the times, the many times, he'd sat beside Mac's bedside. He never knew completely what happened. Mac and Jack never talked about it around him or Riley. Boze had been there for the fall out. The hollow eyes, the nightmares, the panic attacks-but Mac was always ok, eventually.

"Is it always this bad?" Bozer hated the tremble in his voice. Mac picked at a loose thread poking out from his worn jeans as he thought about it.

"No...yes...it's hard to explain," Mac stared straight ahead. The heaviness of his eyes made Bozer regret asking. Mac turned and met his gaze steadily, "Every time is the worst in it's own way." Bozer frowned confused.

"Every...every time they do something…" Mac closed his eyes and fought to control the flood of feelings. Wilt had never appreciated the depth of Mac's control until this moment. Mac took a deep breath then met his eyes again, "The worst part isn't the pain, Boze. It...it blocks everything out, you get lost in it...go somewhere else, eventually pass out. It's not the pain or the physical wounds that makes it bad. It's the helplessness. The...nakedness they strip you to. You have no control to the things they do to your body, and they can do anything they want. Anything." Mac whispered the last. Bozer thought he saw a glitter in his friend's eyes. Bozer felt a chill wondering exactly what "anything" Mac had been through. Had never spoken about. Mac took a deep breath and let it out. If there was any emotion leaking there, it was gone. He opened his mouth to say something, but a loud clunk interrupted him. Mac and Boze bounced to their feet. Bozer clung to Mac's arm shaking. Mac sent him a small smile.

"I don't think that was an hour, do you?" Bozer blinked at him.

"What?" Mac squeezed his shoulder. He moved to the front of the cage and leaned as far as he could. He turned to Bozer.

"It's Boris and his henchman."

"Mac, I...I...can't…" Everything swirled around Boze and he couldn't breathe. Mac grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. Boze blinked and everything became solid again. Mac studied him.

"Back? Ok, listen. Riley should be coming with help. Just hang on until then, right?" Bozer nodded unable to force a sound past his clenched jaw. Mac gave him an easy smile. Bozer looked at him. Mac had a weird look in his eyes. Mac glanced to the hall. Boris was almost there. Bozer's fingers dug into Mac's arm.

"Boze?" Bozer faced him. Mac gave him an easy smile, "Boze, I'm really sorry. Remember it's not your fault, ok?" Boze looked at his friend.

"Wha-?" Bozer never saw Mac's hand move. He felt a thump on the side of his head then he fell into blackness.

"Oh man, I'm so sorry kiddo." Jack stood up and got Bozer a drink of water. He checked on Mac. Everything was the same. Jack hoped Mac kept sleeping. He wished he could keep him in a land of good dreams until he was healed. Jack rubbed his forehead and turned to hand Bozer the water and another wipe. Wilt had given up any pretence of holding things in. His face was slick with tears and snot. He shook and his breathing was sharp gulps. Jack sat down, this time he moved the table and sat beside Bozer. He slid an arm around the younger man's shoulders. He could feel Bozer shaking. Jack rubbed his back and gave the man time to pull himself together. He didn't pressure Boze to continue or stop. He decided to let Boze do what Boze needed to do.

"Jack, it was awful. When I woke up...the screams and...and…" Jack reached down and held Bozer's hand. It was cool.

"I know, buddy. I've been there." Bozer turned and studied Jack's face. He sat back wiping his face. Jack knew he finally saw the worry lines for what they were.

"How do you do it?" Jack closed his eyes and leaned his head back.

"I do my best to make sure it doesn't happen."

"But it does."

"Yeah." Jack grimaced at the sour acid that ran up his throat leaving a horrible taste in his mouth, "I wish, God, I wish it wouldn't...that I could knock him out and wrap him up in bubble wrap-"

"And put him in a comfortable vault where nothing bad can even enter the air he breathes." Jack nodded.

"For starters." Boze sucked the water dry. Jack wondered how long he'd been falling apart silently in the corner. Another thing for Over-asshole to be reminded of when they see each other.

"I cried, Jack. I screamed too. I...I just wanted it to stop. I would have done anything, given them anything." Bozer whispered. He stared at his hands as he started to pick the styrofoam cup apart.

"I know, Boze. That's ok, that's what normal people do in that kind of situation." Jack frowned when Boze started to strangle the cup.

"I should have done something, Jack! I should have-" Jack rolled to his knees in front of Boze and put his hands over Boze's taking the remains of the cup. He could feel the cold claminess of Bozer's shaking hands. He reached up a hand and grabbed Wilt by the back of the neck. He squeezed until Bozer's eyes met his. Jack leaned down and stared into the hurt. Bozer's eyes always reminded him of a deer, skittish and innocent, under all the bravado and joking.

"Now you listen to me and listen good. There was absolutely nothing you could have done to help Mac. He chose to go through this to save you. We all want to protect him, but we can't. Mac's gotta MacGyver, get me?" Jack brought out the stern command voice and softened it with his love for Bozer. He patted Bozer's neck.

"He's hurt. He's been hurt lots of times-"

"Too fucking many!"

"Tell me about it, but we'll get through this and we'll get him through this, ok?" Bozer nodded. He gave Jack a watery smile.

"You know, you're pretty good at this." Jack laughed.

"Practice ol' son, practice." Jack pulled Bozer toward him. Bozer squeezed Jack. Bozer broke. He sobbed until he could barely breathe. Jack held him. Bozer wasn't sure how he felt about it. He'd seen both Riley and Mac take comfort. He knew they thought of Jack as their Dad, but he'd never seen Jack like that. Bozer had a dad. He thought of Jack as a life preserver, a protector and mentor. Bozer buried his eyes into Jack's shoulder. He felt safe. He felt loved and forgiven. Boze sniffed and snorted sitting back. Jack handed him a wipe without a word. He watched Boze, but waited. Boze realized how new this was to Jack too. Boze sniffed and blew his nose. He tossed the wipe and forced a smile.

"I'm gonna end up using all of Mac's." Jack squeezed his shoulder. He let the unsaid lie between them.

"As much time as Mac puts in here, they owe him some anyway." Bozer laughed more than the joke called for. Jack nodded. He studied Bozer.

"Anytime you need anything, Wilt, I'm here for ya, ok? You're one of mine too." Bozer looked away and nodded. He was sure he was going to lose it again. He was saved by a soft moan from the bed.

Both men rushed to Mac's side. Mac's forehead scrunched up in pain. He slowly opened his eyes and blinked the world into view. Mac tried to move his mouth, his eyes widened with fright and pain. Jack sat on the side of the bed and lifted his bloody hand. He set it in his palms as if it were a wounded dove. Mac followed the touch to Jack's face. He blinked in confusion. As always, Jack knew what Mac was asking.

"Those assholes broke your jaw, brother. I'm afraid you're gonna be wired shut for awhile." Mac narrowed his eyes. Jack laughed and held up a hand, "It wasn't me, bud, but I will take advantage of it. Think of the stories, the lectures, the puns!" Mac closed his eyes and groaned louder. Jack brushed hair out of Mac's eyes. Mac rolled his eyes. He lifted his bloody arm to shoo the older man away. Jack caught it and gently rubbed Mac's unhurt fingers. Mac slowly formed half a fist around Jack's fingers. His eyes panned over to Bozer. For the first time since he woke up, Mac's eyes showed real pain. Boze glanced at Jack then mirrored the older man's position on the other side of Mac. He reached up and rubbed Mac's temple. Jack could see tears leak down Bozer's face.

"I'm so sorry this happened to you, Angus." Bozer said. Mac made a loud moan and twitched as if he wanted to gather Bozer into his arms. He arched back eyes closed, forehead furrowed in pain.

"Easy, Mac. That morphine only goes so far, kiddo." Mac managed a slight nod. He opened his eyes and tiredly looked at Bozer. He shook his head. Bozer looked down. Mac made a growling sound. Bozer's eyes snapped up to the blonde's tired gaze. A silent communication only the two of them understood flitted back and forth. Bozer finally smiled and Mac eased back.

"Thank you, Roomie." Bozer whispered. Mac rolled his eyes. They slowly sagged. Bozer gently brushed his fingers through Mac's hair. Mac closed his eyes and let out a puppy sigh. As he relaxed, both of his best friends relaxed. They shared a look. Bozer offered a smile.

"Now I just have to figure out how to get waffles down a straw," he said.

"And how to get him up to the bathroom." Both men stared at Mac a long time then sighed in sync. There was nothing they wanted more than to help their friend get back on his feet and stand at his side as he jumps into the next trouble. Despite the pain, there was nowhere they'd rather be.

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

Thanks for reading/ commenting everybody, this wouldn't let go until I wrote it. Hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it. Love-Pox


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